This is the 91st episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. I have still not come to terms with the reality that my daughter Ruby Thakur is now the Deputy Speaker of Nepal’s Parliament. Sometimes, when I am walking, the thought hits me, and I cannot believe it.&nbsp; Things changed for my daughter in a very short time. I had dreamt that the best my daughter could achieve was a good engineering job. Fate had bigger plans for her. She is no longer just my daughter, she is the nation’s daughter. Nepal’s daughter.&nbsp; My children’s education was always my foremost priority. That is the main reason I went overseas for employment. I realised the value of education while working in Saudi Arabia. In my office, colleagues with good education earn $8,000 per month working on computers. Those with low education toil outdoors in the heat for much lower wages. A good education or skills can change everything. I am in Nepal on vacation and will soon return to my job. Ruby is all set now. But I still have to take care of my other children's education. As the eldest son, I myself never got a chance to prioritise my own education. I dropped out in Grade 7 because I had to take care of my ageing parents and younger siblings. I have done all kinds of jobs. I worked in a landlord’s field for a share of the harvest. Even now my wife and I farm for the land owner and have to give away half of what we grow.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120444_051b61e01a5189af538aa1e011acd3e2b38d5f42825116b2afd325d93d0c519b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260413120444_051b61e01a5189af538aa1e011acd3e2b38d5f42825116b2afd325d93d0c519b" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> <figcaption>Sogarath Thakur during a break in Nepal with wife tending to his farm.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120448_8a1c3ac3fd559026bc6f981cc8dc82cb8ad09a3a4f55fb9f6f7fd5f49c3d5571.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260413120448_8a1c3ac3fd559026bc6f981cc8dc82cb8ad09a3a4f55fb9f6f7fd5f49c3d5571" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>  Then I worked as a barber, my family’s line of occupation. I went door to door cutting people’s hair and later worked in a relative’s saloon. Hairstyles were simple back then, and I got to keep half the fee. I also worked in a brick factory where I was paid weekly. &nbsp; I married when I was 16, and my wife was a year younger. As my family and responsibilities grew, I had to migrate leaving behind my three children including Ruby who was just three months old.&nbsp; I went to Qatar where I continued working as a barber. It was a large saloon and the standards for cleanliness and professionalism were higher. I had to hand over 70% of my daily earnings to the employer. I had to rely on my colleague to translate what the customer wanted. But I slowly became fluent in Arabic. I used to jot down words in Nepali and Arabic and memorise them. In Qatar, customers even came at night for haircuts, and people stayed up late. I would work till 3AM.&nbsp; Communicating with my family was one-way. I would go to Bismillah and ask someone to type out questions to my family about their whereabouts, how the harvest was that season. I would offer very little information about my life in Qatar because it was not easy. What was the point of getting them all worried? What could they do? I never received a letter in return, so throughout my time in Qatar, I never knew how my family was faring. When I appeared in the village after five years without any advance notice, it was a bittersweet reunion, and I had no gifts. I still remember how unfamiliar my village felt when I came home after so many years. I had to ask for directions. When I came home, Ruby was already in school. I had left her in my wife’s arms five years prior. I missed her growing up, and did not even see her pictures. My wife had to introduce her to me as her father. But it took just 15 minutes for her to warm up to me.&nbsp; The Arabic skills I had picked up in Qatar came in handy when I remigrated two years later to Saudi Arabia. I worked as a labourer in the desert heat, but once my company found out I spoke Arabic, I was hired for an indoor job as an office boy. The struggle in Qatar had paid off. I worked in an air conditioned office serving tea or coffee, doing bank runs or getting documents signed and photocopied. I have worked in the same company for the past 20 years, sending money home.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120448_f083fa873a6d77b19c8b0bdde623415c643a151fb550c57ff4e52b3c2431355f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260413120448_f083fa873a6d77b19c8b0bdde623415c643a151fb550c57ff4e52b3c2431355f" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="3213" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120452_5ccd9a01ee05ce26b71381725108215d0f0d3806508b0cb482aabcfea09bbaef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260413120452_5ccd9a01ee05ce26b71381725108215d0f0d3806508b0cb482aabcfea09bbaef" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>  My wife is not just my children’s guardian, but also mine throughout the two decades I was away. I trust her with all my earnings, and she manages our household finances well. She makes sure that the children’s school fees and other expenses are paid on time. These days, with video calls, things have become much easier for me to stay in touch with home.&nbsp; When Ruby told me she wanted to do an engineering diploma, I was happy. Later, her friends inspired her to join politics so she started getting involved with Shram Sanskriti Party. I first found out she got the proportional representation nomination through social media while on my work duty in Saudi Arabia. I was so excited, but even more so when she was elected Deputy Speaker. I was back home in Dhanusha on my vacation at the time.&nbsp; We are overjoyed and waiting for her to come back to the village for a visit when she gets a chance so we can celebrate properly with everyone. I plan to go back to Saudi Arabia as originally planned, I have a good job and will work for maybe five more years. Ruby has taken 75% of the load off my back. She can help take care of her siblings.&nbsp; I sleep at 8PM every day and wake up at 5AM to exercise before my day in Saudi Arabia begins – I have stuck to the same routine for the last two decades and it has worked well for me and my health. I have a good rapport with my boss who is an Egyptian. My requests to resign have often been met with counter-offers to stay on. My honesty and hard work have won me the company's trust. I will go back and resume working as I have, despite my daughter’s huge achievements. I am still a farmer’s son, a simple man who has to fulfil his family responsibilities. My colleagues in Saudi Arabia are aware that Ruby is Deputy Speaker in Nepal’s Parliament, they are all happy for me and have congratulated me. This time, when I go back, I have promised them that I will throw a bakhri party to celebrate my daughter’s achievement.

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The nation’s daughter

This is the 76th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. We did not have a whole lot, but did not grow up in scarcity either. When I was in Grade 7, my father migrated to Malaysia but returned just after 18 days and was heavily in debt. It is the interest and not the principal from loan sharks that ruins borrowers. As we grew up, family expenses rose and my father migrated again to Qatar, determined to make it work this time. I used to watch him via IMO in buildings under construction eating rice out of plastic bags. There was no AC, no oven, no shade. Those images are etched into my memory.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="600" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Family picture from 2014 sent to Anil's father who was working in Qatar.</figcaption> </figure>  After Grade 10, I was encouraged to take up computers in +2 as I was a bright student. I did not have access to a computer, and the 30 minutes we got weekly at the computer lab was just not enough. My parents could not afford to buy a computer, but a friend had both a desktop and laptop at home.&nbsp; I did his homework in exchange for using his computer. When my father in Qatar, found out he bought me a laptop. Today, a decade later, I am still using it. Maybe I valued the computer more because it was bought with my father’s sweat. The laptop reminds me of how he toiled overseas.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil still uses the laptop his father bought him ten years ago.</figcaption> </figure>  The money he sent home did help with household expenses. My mother did tailoring, although the income was not stable. After my father returned from Qatar, we he bought a three-wheeler which he still uses in Makwanpur. After completing Grade 12, I came to college in Kathmandu to study IT. It cost Rs20,000 a month in tuition, rent and food just to survive. I could not complete my bachelor’s. Although my father kept saying, “Don’t worry, I am here,” he just did not have the money to pay for me. So, I took up a data entry job which helped cover living expenses. The pandemic meant my father could not earn money from his auto-rickshaw. We had no savings and had outstanding loans. Migration was the only way to get us out of the rut. I told my father that both of us should go abroad to earn some money. He could return earlier and I would stay on.&nbsp; My father agreed, and I visited recruiting agencies with both our passports. After reviewing our CVs, they said it was easy to find jobs for my father but not for me, given my educational background and my experience in software. “How can we send you for jobs as a cleaner or security guard?” they asked. I finally found a job in Romania, and decided to have my father stay back because going to Europe would have doubled the cost. My mother and sister came to see me off at Kathmandu airport. It felt just like my father leaving for Qatar many years ago. Perhaps some day, my brother would also leave in a similar manner, I thought.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's sister hugging him at the airport before he left for Romania.</figcaption> </figure>  In Romania, I work in a factory making car seat belts. It is not physically demanding and it is indoors. Even though I did not share it with my family, the initial period was difficult as I had no experience standing and working for so many hours at a time. Once, when I was tired at work, I wondered how my father managed in Qatar in a much more physically taxing job. Here I was not carrying heavy loads, my work was not outdoors. I was so emotional, I wrote a ghazal in my head. The words “खाडीको तातो घाम” kept repeating in my head. After work, I jotted down the verse in my diary:&nbsp; बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot become like you कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot imagine how hard it is म मान्छे हेर्दा मात्रै ठूलो I only look like a grown man बानी अझै बच्चै छ But I am still childish किनकि जता त्यतै जान मन लाग्छ I feel like roaming around जे देख्यो त्यो खान मन लाग्छ Eat whatever I see. न पैसा बच्छ I cannot save. न खाएको कुरा सबै पच्छ The food doesn’t agree with me&nbsp; कहिले काहीँ त मलाई म्याकडोनाल्डको बर्गर पनि पच्दैन Not even a burger at McDonalds तर प्लास्टिकमा पोको परेको त्यो चिसो भात But how did my father eat that cold rice खाडीको त्यो तातो घाममा सेक्दै खाँदा मेरो बुवालाई कसरी पच्छ? Under the hot Gulf sun? मेरो पेटले यस्तो पचाउन सक्दै सक्दैन I would not be able to eat that. बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot be like you. कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot say how difficult it is.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil Gole's diary entry of his ghazal compares his migration with his father’s journey.</figcaption> </figure>  I posted it online, and it went viral. But more importantly, people found the words relatable and engaging. My sister first saw it on Tiktok and shared it with my mother. It moved them to tears while my father kept watching it on repeat, deep in thought. Even though my birth father decided to leave my mother when I was less than a year old, my step father never made me feel the absence of anything. My friend from Grade 6 in Makwanpur, Sharan, introduced me to ghazal. He was six years older because he had to pause his studies during the Maoist conflict. He worked in a brick factory in Kathmandu, saved money, and returned to school. He was very talented and we became friends through the school children’s club.&nbsp; Sharan and I spent most of our time together, sharing meals to save money and even skipping classes. One day, in Grade 9 when our teacher was absent, he wrote a ghazal on the spot and explained the form, the rhyme, the meter. I listened half-heartedly as it was not of interest. We left it at that. Shortly after, Sharan was diagnosed with leukemia and he could not finish exam. Because he was a sharp student, the teachers decided to not hold him back. He died just before Grade 10. I cried. I do not have any pictures of Sharan. He had small ears, and I used to tease him that people with small ears do not live long. That still haunts me. <div class="embed-block"><div style="max-width: 56vh;"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 177.7778%;"><iframe src="https://cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutube.com%2Fshorts%2FLpizGQWTbMs%3Ffeature%3Dshare&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> At the school assembly at the start of the new year, we were asked to share a talent. I did not know what to do, but I wrote a ghazal just as Sharan had taught me and dedicated it to him. Halfway through, I started crying and the principal took me to his office and calmed me down.&nbsp; I do not write much poetry except a few posts on social media here and there. But a video of me reciting went viral on TikTok and that encouraged me to write more. That made me feel validated, and I began writing more about real life experiences. It has been three years in Romania. My brother will also be joining me soon. Things have improved for us financially, but we are not where we want to be. We will get there. When we do, I will resume my studies. I’m interested in programming, especially back-end development and working with databases. It is on hold right now.&nbsp; I do not have big dreams, I just want to make sure my parents get what they deserve. It is okay if I get delayed if my parents are able to access what they had scarified for us when they were of my age. For now, my family is my priority.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34" data-rendition-name="original" width="2016" height="1512" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's family.</figcaption> </figure>

My father’s son

“गरि खान देउ” is a compelling collective call that resonates with most Nepalis. It reflects the suffocation of people wanting just to live and get by. In relation to foreign employment, it also means that because it is difficult to live, Nepalis leave.&nbsp;
The Nepal government should be evaluated more than on its ability to retain youth within Nepal. Its ability to ensure that those who choose to migrate have access to safe, transformative, well-managed migration pathways that provide high return opportunities without high costs and hassles.
In the context of foreign employment, “गरि खान देउ extends to “गरि जान देउ” which would mean ‘Let us leave to live’. This is particularly pertinent now because our international labour market is so shaky. Because access to Nepal’s biggest migrant destinations are in jeopardy, labour diplomacy that puts workers at the centre is now more important than ever.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/labour-mobility/who-gets-to-recruit-for-malaysia-5ll4n3f6" target="_blank">Malaysia</a> had been closed for almost two years, and it recently issued a ten-point list for recruitment agencies that seems to favour the better endowed recruiters while displacing smaller ones that care about worker welfare and recruitment standards.
After the GenZ protests, the UAE stopped issuing visas to Nepali workers for almost two months, ostensibly because of jailbreaks and looted weapons. They have reportedly begun allowing it recently, pending attested police reports.
While the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/europe-now-favoured-destination-for-nepalis" target="_blank">preference</a> of Nepali youth may be shifting toward Europe, in terms of scale and accessibility especially for those with low education, limited English skills, or little work experience, traditional destinations in the Gulf and Malaysia are crucial and continue to make up a major share of overall migration.
Disturbances in these common destination markets can mean loss of livelihoods of hundreds of thousands of Nepalis.&nbsp;
Nepali migrant workers want to live and just get by not only in Nepal but overseas as well.
But the way many leave for work abroad can be considered ‘compromised migration’. Sub-par outcomes that migrants are often compelled to settle for due to lack of alternate choices both within Nepal and overseas. The lack of choices abroad &nbsp;is not necessarily the absence of rewarding options globally, where there are severe worker shortages and unfulfilled vacancies, but rather our inability to seize those opportunities.
The Japan Specified Skilled Worker <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-japan-jobs-deal-still-stuck" target="_blank">scheme</a>, for example, is an underutilised migrant labour pathway due to lack of procedural clarity. Although the agreement was signed in 2019, it is only from October that verification of job demands has begun. Nepalis do not need to look for a backdoor as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-hard-working-students-overseas" target="_blank">students</a> or trainees if they are interested to work in Japan, because Tokyo has literally opened the front door and designed a work scheme to address labor shortages. With the <a href="https://www.newsweek.com/can-japan-new-leader-afford-to-go-hard-immigration-10931515" target="_blank">new leadership</a> in Japan, there might be changes in how the intake of foreign workers is managed.
Where it has <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bringing-korea-s-prosperity-to-nepal" target="_blank">worked</a>, like with the Employment Permit Scheme (<a href="https://documents1.worldbank.org/curated/en/645571537423013613/pdf/130024-WP-P156586-PUBLIC-2-Korea-Brief-Singles.pdf" target="_blank">EPS</a>) for South Korea, there have been stories of transformation. There are pilot <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/labour-mobility/helping-migrant-returnees-to-pivot-2urk8oo9" target="_blank">innovations</a> for Nepali workers in Korea, including for their reintegration back in Nepal. Would the Korea EPS have worked as well had Seoul not held its presence in Nepal to manage this scheme via the Human Resources Development Service of Korea?
When <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/i-felt-like-i-was-born-to-be-a-nurse" target="_blank">Alpana Adhikari migrated to the UK</a> , she knew exactly why. Her son was diagnosed with Williams Syndrome and she wanted better education facilities for him. In 20 months, she realised the dream. She migrated under a well-designed government-to-government (G2G) pilot initiative that did not require her to pay any fees and offered transparent terms of employment.&nbsp;
Imagine if she had migrated like a majority of other Nepali nurses do — paying exorbitant recruitment fees, expensive license tests, visa delays, unnecessary time and financial costs through ‘consultancies’ which may find ways to cheat.
Just like many migrants’ stories, hers too could have been a story of deferred dreams. She may still have been able to accomplish what she had desired, but perhaps not so soon or as easily.&nbsp;
The G2G pilot was for a quota of 100, but only 40 managed to meet the criteria. The 60 wasted opportunities did not raise eyebrows, not even when our reality is that many who failed to secure a seat through the G2G still managed to migrate through traditional ways, including to the UK.
With or without well-executed labour mobility schemes, people still migrate and gain from it. Because migrating, despite the costs, hassles and struggle, still allow for earnings that are relatively better and regular. People want to move to new places, learn new things, grow, see the world, and as many migrants say they want to “work within a system”.
But ‘better’ is a relative term, the outcomes may be better than what people leave behind in Nepal, but may not be as good as they could be in the global labour market if we had access to better implemented bilateral labor partnerships and a more competent and honest labor mobility industry. We are not making the most of overseas employment, not at an individual or a national level.
This is an area where our public narrative and how we evaluate the Government’s migration management also fall short. Both the Japan SSW scheme and the UK pilot show how wasted opportunities don’t raise alarm even when people seek similar jobs through alternate, more costly and time-consuming, routes.
Hundreds of thousands of workers migrate to Gulf countries and Malaysia but the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times" target="_blank">outcomes</a> can differ vastly depending on the employer. There are differences in recruitment fees, career growth, remittances sent, living and working conditions including safety standards, among others. Working in a multinational company is not the same as working in a supply company, so dismissing the Gulf countries as one homogenous experience overlooks these distinctions.
Nepalis are willing to invest in language training such as Korean for better schemes like EPS when there is trust in the benefits and process. Such investment in skills prior to departure can yield multifold returns.
<a href="https://documents1.worldbank.org/curated/en/287551468053374058/pdf/wps4231.pdf" target="_blank">Evidence</a> shows that a good share of Nepal’s poverty reduction can be attributed to remittances. And this is despite remittances coming from recruitment that involves high cost, skill mismatch, limited choice of good employers or decent jobs, weak labour diplomacy, and a failure to attract top employers.
Fixing the foreign employment sector need not be at odds with fixing the domestic labour market. When the Nepali <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/now-what" target="_blank">diaspora</a> does well, Nepal does well. When one member has access to a good overseas opportunity, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/jajrkot-to-johar" target="_blank">10 members fare well</a> back home. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/more-remittance-more-than-remittance" target="_blank">Remittances</a> far outperform other external financing like FDI and foreign aid, are more resilient and directly reach the pockets of families.&nbsp;
Inclusive jobs and employment as social protection via <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/missing-the-plot-in-nepals-job-scheme" target="_blank">public works</a> programs remain central to our domestic labour priorities. But we should be thinking about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/fee-free-migration-is-possible" target="_blank">inclusive</a> labour mobility programs in a similar way to help the poorest pockets.
Nepal should be attracting the best of employers, diversifying to new destination countries and sectors with better worker protections and higher earnings. Broad, non-binding MOUs should be treated not as an end point, but as the start of further diplomacy and collaboration on skills and labour mobility schemes.
People leave and will continue to leave in the hundreds of thousands. But where to? How? For what kind of jobs? What are the returns of these jobs? At what cost? And what safety protections are in place?
Despite the possibilities for better life outcomes that migration offers, why are there no active demands from the public for good emigration? <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-truth-about-migration" target="_blank">Immigration</a> is a politically divisive topic in many migrant receiving countries. In Nepal the duress to leave (बाध्यता) has become part of our public narrative but the compulsion to choose less rewarding overseas opportunities by migrants has not.
Even the new faces, new voices that have emerged after the GenZ protests refer to migration largely as an outcome of state failure, a problem that needs to be solved. This is not surprising because people are leaving and villages are emptying. Such perceptions are not baseless, but are rooted in many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepalis-abused-by-nepalis-in-luxembourg" target="_blank">stories</a> of abuse that migrants face overseas.
Without romanticising बिदेश or legitimizing the struggles workers face overseas, migration has enabled transformation for countless Nepalis who did not want to be confined by circumstances of birth.&nbsp;
Considering youth aspiration, the demographic shift that have expanded temporary labour programs globally, and the immense power of the Nepali diaspora waiting to be unlocked, “गरि खान देउ” should have a beyond border outlook. If not for more migration, certainly for better migration.
Upasana Khadka heads Migration Lab, a social enterprise aimed at making migration outcomes better for workers and their families. Labour Mobility is a regular column in Nepali Times.

Upasana Khadka

Living and leaving

The Tokyo High Court this week ordered the Tokyo Metropolitan Government to pay over JPY39 million ($250,000) in damages to the family of Nepali migrant worker Arjun Bahadur Singh who died in police custody eight years ago.
The order brings justice to the family of Singh, who was 39 when he died after being handcuffed and restrained following his arrest in Tokyo in March 2017.
With help from Japanese human rights lawyers, Singh’s widow Ambika had filed a lawsuit claiming a JPY62 million compensation for her husband’s death at a police station, allegedly due to mistreatment.
The Tokyo District Court had initially ordered a compensation of only JPY1 million to the family citing reciprocity for Japanese nationals in Nepal, but after the Tokyo Metropolitan Government appealed that decision, the court slapped a much bigger amount.
“Police violated their duty to ensure that Arjun was not restrained too tightly than necessary, and it was this action that restricted his blood circulation, leading to his death,” the court order said.
It justified the higher compensation saying it calculated Singh's salary in Japan before returning to Nepal, and added: “Strict adherence to reciprocal compensation could lead to injustice and violation of international human rights law.&nbsp;
<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/nepalis-from-chitwan-to-chidoya,4110" target="_blank">Arjun Singh</a> first came to Japan in 2011 as a migrant worker to work in a Nepali restaurant in Saitama Prefecture. With his savings, he supported his two daughters and wife in Bajura district in Nepal. But he fell sick and went back to Nepal where he could not pay back his debts.&nbsp;
He re-migrated to Japan, but could not hold on to his job and police picked him off the Tokyo sidewalk where he was living. In his possession, police found a credit card, which they accused him of stealing, although he had just found it on the street and had not used it.&nbsp;
Police said Singh was disorderly and violent in detention, and had to be restrained before being interrogated at the Tokyo Prosecutor’s Office. They said his handcuffs were taken off just before he collapsed and was rushed to hospital where he was declared dead. No cause of death was determined.&nbsp;
Japanese lawyer Tohru Takahashi who works for Solidarity Network with Migrants Japan, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/worker-s-widow-sues-japan-government" target="_blank">told Nepali Times in 2018</a> that a doctor's testimony showed that being handcuffed and shackled for a long period was the cause of death due to muscle necrosis.&nbsp;
Takahashi and another activist Azuma Toyohisa took Singh’s body to a Zen temple in Nagoya for an autopsy before cremation. The two activists took care of the expenses and also flew in Ambika Singh from Nepal for his funeral.&nbsp;
“If it wasn’t for the Japanese people who helped me, I would never have been able to take my husband’s ashes back to Nepal, I hope no one has to go through what I did. I couldn’t tell whether I was living a nightmare or a reality,” Ambika had told Nepali Times in 2018 after returning from Japan.
One of the Japanese lawyers defending Singh, <a href="https://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2018/07/27/national/crime-legal/wife-nepalese-man-died-interrogation-sues-state-tokyo-metropolitan-government/#.W1xJsi0Q0Wo" target="_blank">Ryutaro Ogawa, told the Japan Times</a>: “This is about how foreign workers don’t get the support they need when they lose their job … I think there is a lot to learn from this case.”
The number of Nepali migrating to Japan has surged in recent years as the country sees a shortfall of workers due to a calling birthrate. There are said to be <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/nepalis-from-chitwan-to-chidoya,4110" target="_blank">nearly 200,000 Nepalis</a> in Japan, mostly working in the service sector, manufacturing and studying. &nbsp;

Compensation for death of Nepali worker in Japan

With Saturday's deadline on Malaysia’s announcement of new criteria for selecting private recruiting agencies for migrant workers having lapsed, Nepal and Bangladesh have rejected the conditions.
The Malaysian move three weeks ago came in the aftermath of deadly GenZ riots in September, when Nepal’s interim government does not have designated heads in the Foreign Ministry and the Labour Ministry.
Interim Prime Minister Sushila Karki instructed the Labour Ministry to examine the implications of the standards and recommend appropriate steps to address them, but it has said it cannot send Nepali workers to Malaysia based on those criteria.
“In line with Nepal’s foreign employment policy and regulations, we are currently unable to accept or implement the proposed criteria,” says Pitambar Ghimire, spokesperson at the Ministry of Labor, Employment and Social Security in Kathmandu.
In response to the government’s request for their opinion on the Malaysian stipulation, the Nepal Association of Foreign Employment Agencies (NAFEA) has also flatly rejected the criteria, saying it could create a harmful syndicate and restrict fair competition, violate Nepal’s Constitution and laws, and increase recruitment fees that workers must pay.
On 25 October, the Malaysian Ministry of Foreign Affairs sent letters to the governments of Nepal, Bangladesh, Burma, Pakistan and India with 10 criteria meant to ‘rationalise the number of licensed private recruitment agencies permitted to facilitate recruitment and placement of workers to Malaysia’.
The proposed criteria include: at least five years of operating experience, deployment of 3,000 workers in the past three years of operation, experience sending workers to at least three countries, valid licenses and good conduct certificates, five employer testimonials, operating their own training and accommodation centres, and even a requirement for the staffing agency to have a 10,000 sq m office maintained for three years.
“We have communicated our views to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and have proposed discussing various labour related matters with our Malaysian counterparts diplomatically through bilateral dialogue and negotiations including renewal of the Nepal-Malaysia labour agreement,” Pitamber Ghimire said.
NAFEA has urged the government to prevent this measure from moving forward using diplomatic channels, and has held &nbsp;several gatherings and press conferences opposing the proposal since the Malaysian letter was received three weeks ago.
“We have taken commitment letters from members that they will not be engaged in activities related to the syndicate,” said Sujit Shrestha of NAFEA. “And if they break the commitment, they will face consequences including the revocation of their NAFEA membership. These letters also send a strong message to the government that this is irrevocably and collectively rejected by the industry.”
Bangladesh has also not accepted the proposal despite the 15 November deadline to send a list of recruiters that meet the criteria. That in itself would have been an impossible task to complete to begin with even if the government had accepted the proposal.&nbsp;
According to media reports, Bangladesh has sent a letter to the Malaysian government requesting that three of the proposed criteria be relaxed. This includes flexibility regarding the requirements for a 10,000 sq ft office, a dedicated training center, and the condition of having deployed 3,000 workers in the last five years. Despite the official request to Malaysian authorities, the Bangladeshi Government has also been collecting applications from recruiters who meet Malaysia’s proposed criteria, raising confusions about the contradictory stance.&nbsp;
Just like NAFEA, the recruitment association in Bangladesh, the Bangladesh Association of International Recruiting Agencies (BAIRA) has also outright rejected the proposal including in a letter to the Bangladeshi government, calling the criteria ‘unprecedented and exclusionary, unreasonable, discriminatory and syndicate-driven &nbsp;that would effectively disqualify 99% of legitimate agencies from participation’.&nbsp;
Now that the ball is back in Malaysia’s court and the proposal has not gained much support from two of the major origin countries, it will be interesting to see how they respond.

Nepal, Bangladesh reject Malaysian conditions

This is the 73rd episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. Excerpts from conversations with Malaysian-based workers from Jajarkot, hired under a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/fee-free-migration-is-possible" target="_blank">responsible recruitment drive</a> 18 months ago. Some of the candidates were previously interviewed last November 3.&nbsp; Jeevan Shahi As the eldest son, I support 10 family members: my wife and two sons, my parents during illness and festivals, my brother’s family while he prepares for the civil service exam, and my sister who is a student. If one person living abroad helps 10 family members, I am content to be a migrant worker overseas. My sons are now 14 and 12. They are growing up quickly, and I miss them. Mostly, I miss my elderly parents. They tell me they think of me when they are eating good food, especially when my mother cooks meat. My mother also misses me when there are fresh apples or cucumbers from the field. I worry about my parents most.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141128_5f55dcd01a1c236a250fe116e0f869a50b2866cac33cff9bb7ae375293dfef2a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251103141128_5f55dcd01a1c236a250fe116e0f869a50b2866cac33cff9bb7ae375293dfef2a" data-rendition-name="original" width="914" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot"> <figcaption>Jeevan Shahi in Malaysia.</figcaption> </figure>  I recently sent them a smart phone which my father is still trying to learn how to use. Until recently, I could only see their faces when my family members were visiting them. I watched them this Dasain, and it made me homesick. Once my father learns to use the phone we can have more frequent video calls. Before coming to Malaysia, I had only gone to India to work. But when I saw that we did not have to pay any recruitment fees for this job, I thought, why not give it a try. It turned out to be a good decision. Otherwise, I would have gone to India where I could earn Rs20,000 at most. Here, with overtime, I can earn over Rs100,000. With my savings, I have bought land near the market in Kohalpur where I moved a few years back. I plan to build a house and run a small ice cream business there.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141124_76e080f9d75412f596dfd0fb8b4f6628e02028ccef78c3c5234d83442cd0d275.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251103141124_76e080f9d75412f596dfd0fb8b4f6628e02028ccef78c3c5234d83442cd0d275" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="908" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot"> <figcaption>Jeevan Shahi with friends in Malaysia.</figcaption> </figure>  I have to think about a viable business plan because unlike in the mountains, you have to even buy water in the Tarai. My father has suggested we bring down two of our buffalos from Jajarkot to Kohalpur for the ice cream venture. I am not impressed with the watered down milk from the dairy. I will have to invest in ice-cream makers, refrigerators, physical facilities and several pushcarts. I will engage all my family members, and believe that it will be a lucrative business.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025110315118_4da135fcd504e80ae82263cc7b983aab9a43b02702cb5bce6e20f69522ffa021.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025110315118_4da135fcd504e80ae82263cc7b983aab9a43b02702cb5bce6e20f69522ffa021" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Jajarkot earthquake"> <figcaption>3 November 2023 Jajarkot earthquake.</figcaption> </figure>  I vividly remember the earthquake two years ago. It still makes my body tremble. We had gone to Jajarkot to my parents’ house from Kohalpur. We were fast asleep when the earthquake struck at 11PM. When the house started shaking, we thought it was ghosts. We rushed outside. There was no phone signal, and people were blowing whistles. We dared not go back to the house. It was difficult to go to sleep. It was Jajarkot’s black day. Janak Bahadur Singh Within a month of arriving in Malaysia, my mother fell sick. She needed surgery and had to be rushed to Nepalganj and medical costs were more than Rs400,000. We relied on loans, including from colleagues in Malaysia to cover the costs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141132_019978d723ded0ae568d84f0b3bea41739ae6b128a4b90966ab8b780df93709f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251103141132_019978d723ded0ae568d84f0b3bea41739ae6b128a4b90966ab8b780df93709f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot NT"> <figcaption>Janak Bahadur Singh in Malaysia.</figcaption> </figure>  When there is a family member abroad, it is easier for folks back home to borrow money from local lenders. I have now paid off my loans, and my mother is doing better. I had to postpone plans to rebuild our house, but now I have used my savings to pay an advance to builders. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/quake-survivors-migrate-for-work">Quake survivors migrate for work</a> But just before Dasain, my brother’s two daughters were swept away by a river in Nepalganj and drowned. We are in mourning and have postponed construction for six months, and hopefully the advance will be reimbursed. Since we will not be using my savings immediately for the house, I might invest it for my sister’s plan to migrate to Japan. Srijung B K It has been two years since the earthquake, and 18 months since I came here. We have not &nbsp;received support from the Nepal government other than the Rs50,000 to build a temporary shelter. With my overseas earnings, we have bought land in the market area since the family home is in a remote area. My long-term plan is to start an agro-vet shop and poultry farm, for which the new location is more suitable. I hope to start building a house in the coming year.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141132_e015105d653f019750cb6e364da5188672581167a97ea07f9f4575a8e0b5e5f6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251103141132_e015105d653f019750cb6e364da5188672581167a97ea07f9f4575a8e0b5e5f6" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot NT"> <figcaption>Srijung B K with his family in Jajarkot.</figcaption> </figure>  This is my first overseas work, and I plan to stay for another six or seven years if all goes well. I miss my family and the village environment back in Jajarkot, but it helps that many of us from my village are also here. Remittances have helped my family cover household expenses. My father used to support the family with his carpentry job but his health is failing as he ages. So I have stepped up.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141132_bbf661fd1d162cd5cad4498bf2c0dab1d9f9b8c9a19e5b668b064645266ec843.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251103141132_bbf661fd1d162cd5cad4498bf2c0dab1d9f9b8c9a19e5b668b064645266ec843" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot NT"> <figcaption>Srijung B K in Malaysia.</figcaption> </figure>  Khadak Singh After the earthquake I came to Malaysia, and with my earnings have paid off our Rs800,000 loan for my father’s medical expenses. I have also bought land in Kohalpur. Paying off the loans is a big relief to the family, since the debt trap created a lot of tension in the household. Now we are free from that burden. I plan to stay here for another five years or so. Other than the first tranch of the Rs50,000 we received from the Nepal government to build a temporary shelter, there has been no other help. We added some of our own money to make decent temprorary living quarters.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141152_dc34256f7287bd30d6167c20cd252d291bf0d7b6b8d839fec57664bebc329e32.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20251103141152_dc34256f7287bd30d6167c20cd252d291bf0d7b6b8d839fec57664bebc329e32" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot"> <figcaption>Khadak Singh being interviewed for the Malaysia job.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141152_f65cfd8888d9aec696b89c544985617fa4d58234aff51e0bc9e103bdda1a9d29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20251103141152_f65cfd8888d9aec696b89c544985617fa4d58234aff51e0bc9e103bdda1a9d29" data-rendition-name="original" width="1143" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot"> <figcaption>Khadak Singh in Malaysia.</figcaption> </figure>  Uncertainty about government reconstruction guidelines for more support has delayed our plans to rebuild our house. I don’t have much expectation, but will build a house regardless in Kohalpur and bring my family down. I continue to write <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cQvM_yAUETg" target="_blank">songs</a> in Malaysia, and when the time and situation allow it, I plan to record them in a studio. When I last migrated to Malaysia, it was just to get out of Nepal and I did not achieve much. This time, I am planning better and working hard to achieve my goals. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cQvM_yAUETg?si=AKM2UNMYBHytckNq" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> Bir Bahadur Karki When I was working in Saudi Arabia, I had once visited a goat farm in the desert. After seeing how 150 goats were raised in such an arid place, it made me think of everything we could do in our village where there is more vegetation. These thoughts kept recurring, and I was so determined to run a farm back home that I resigned from my job and returned to Nepal. Many advised me I could get better returns if I invested elsewhere, but I put all my money into buying land and building sheds for goats, chicken, and fish ponds. I did not have much experience, but started with different goat breeds. But they got sick and I suffered heavy losses. I sought help from the government, but there was no support besides a small grant and recognition as a ‘best farmer’. I struggled to pay my taxes, so I decided to migrate overseas so I could save enough to invest in agriculture in Nepal. My heart is still in it, and my only hope is to one day become the best livestock farmer. So far, I have saved Rs1.5 million and am planning to eventually set up a dairy farm in Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141156_ce2b2ce11895128c1b66688a16944ae08d7b0f9e8e2118d88d402f0a97ab04af.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20251103141156_ce2b2ce11895128c1b66688a16944ae08d7b0f9e8e2118d88d402f0a97ab04af" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot"> <figcaption>Bir Bahadur Karki in Malaysia. Right: with his mother in Nepal.</figcaption> </figure>  My wife is already doing lemon and orange agriculture back home, with saplings from the government although we don’t have much income from that business yet. I advise her from Malaysia, and we both discuss and make decisions together. I am confident that we will do better in future. My family in Jajarkot is still living in a temporary shelter. There has been no housing grant, and the guidelines are confusing. My wife was expecting when I came to Malaysia, and there is no male member of my family after my father died. I have put in extra effort to build a comfortable, well-insulated shelter. My son was born three months after I came to Malaysia. I was extremely nervous when my wife went into labour. When my sister-in-law called to tell me that the baby was born, I was relieved and shared the good news with my friends. I plan to stay on in Malaysia since I have some debts to pay off. I will be home next Dasain, and that is when I will get to see my son for the first time.

Nepali migrant workers rebuild lives

This is the 72nd episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. My father ran a store and that is where I spent all my time till Grade 6. Doing my homework. Serving customers. I then moved to my maternal grandparents’ house because I used to get along with my cousin who was a year older than me. We did everything together, and were best friends. We took turns studying: I was a night owl, and he was an early riser. Before I went to bed after studying all night, I woke him up. My mother was 44 when I was born, the same year my eldest brother got married. My sister-in-law becoming a part of our family was how my mother referenced my age. I liked making money, and was always a hustler. In Grade 7, I learnt to handle a tractor and helped my brother-in-law to plough, earning Rs10 a day. As I got better, he paid me more. By Grade 9, I was already making Rs500 per day, but had to slow down to prepare for my exams. From an early age I knew I did not want a 9-5 job. There just wasn’t enough money in it. I wanted to get into business, and compared my brother who worked in the post office and what businessmen made. It did not help that my brother was honest, and never took bribes. A friend and I made money selling cheap Chinese phones at a premium to our friends. We blasted music on the phones and pretended that we were giving them a discount. After SLC, I started teaching math and other subjects. I was soon a shareholder in the same school and in the evening I was involved in our family’s floriculture business, growing amaranth and marigold for garlands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4" data-rendition-name="original" width="955" height="1314" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  It was then that a friend suggested we learn the Korean language. We could be earning significantly higher in Korea for similar efforts. I had no plans to go abroad but he convinced me. I did not know anything about Korea, and was scolded at the language institute when I asked someone to point Korea on the map.&nbsp; It was only there that I learnt you had to pass an exam for the Korean Employment Permit System (EPS), and pay for language classes. After a week, I decided it was not for me and dropped out. But my friend convinced me to give it one more try. I did not prepare much for the exam, and it was no surprise that I failed. But it was just by one mark, and people would pity me for failing “just by one mark”. It was a brand of failure. It hurt my ego. I had to turn things around by taking the exams seriously, and locked myself up to study hard.&nbsp; Even when we had visitors, my wife told them I was not home. If I was not in my room learning Korean, I would be with a group of ten of us test-takers comparing notes and practicing late into the night. The exam was difficult, but this time I passed, the only one in my group who did.&nbsp; As someone who never liked the idea of doing a job, I still had my doubts about going to Korea. It did not help that one of my acquaintances had returned a month after he had left, and he discouraged me from migrating given that I was already making good money in Nepal.&nbsp; But my wife suggested that I give it a shot since I had worked so hard for it. And if it really turned out not to be my cup of tea, I could always return. What did I have to lose, I thought, at least I would get to visit Korea. My job there was in an electrical company that made circuit boards. I worked all day, earned good money. In the evenings, I kept myself busy with my real estate business back in Nepal. I had learnt the tricks of the trade from fellow real estate agents back home, but at the time did not have the capital to invest.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  In Korea, it helped that I had salary records that allowed me to get loans from financial institutions both in Korea and in Nepal. Ultimately, I started earning more from my real estate deals in Nepal than from my job in Korea. This was all thanks to my ability to take loans because of the EPS scheme. My wife has been managing the flower business while I was away. My finances grew stronger over the eight years I was in Korea. I paid off the loans that I had borrowed to buy land. But real estate did not satisfy me entirely. I wondered: what is my brand? What will I be known for? What is my contribution to society? Real estate is for wealth, but that is about it. I needed to sell one piece of land and use the revenue to start a venture. I took classes in business, and returned to Nepal six months ago and got back to my family’s ancestral roots in floriculture. In Nepal too, I am continuing the entrepreneurship training I had started in Korea with the Bridge International. Such exposure helps us reflect on our business such as our branding, vision, and proactive aspects like the importance of strong recordkeeping.&nbsp; I am now working to upgrade and expand my floriculture business. With a friend who is still in Korea I am building a cooling room to increase the shelf-life of flowers and other produce and set up a market in my village where others can sell their produce. Floriculture is our primary business, but it is seasonal and earns good money only during festivals like Tihar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  So, I grow tomatoes to ensure year-round earnings. I also am engaged in other businesses like real estate and online shopping. I work round the clock in Nepal — a strong work ethic is something I picked up in Korea.&nbsp; My Korean bosses would work alongside us, that motivated us. I work just as hard in Nepal as I did in Korea. People here often ask me why I am pushing myself so hard. But making garlands comes easy to me, it is work my forebears were involved in. My childhood memories are about plucking flowers with my sister. I have a comparative advantage in this work. It comes naturally to me, it is easy and I enjoy it. And sometimes, if there are too many garlands to make, I can multitask while holding meetings. My fingers just fly. I am good at this job, but my wife is even better and faster.&nbsp; When there is too much load, we can also outsource the work. To be known as the flower guy would be great personal branding. The मखमली guy. Or the सयपत्री guy. I decided to come home for just this with a one-way ticket. “अब पासा: जाँदैन ल्हासा!” &nbsp;

The flower guy

The brouhaha between the tech bros led by Elon Musk and Donald Trump’s nativist supporters over whether to restrict skilled immigrants reflects a deep underlying tension between the politics and economics of migration.&nbsp;
Today’s rich economies owe much of their success to migrants who, by choice or through coercion, laboured on their plantations, factories, mines, and homes. Even now, these countries continue to rely on low- and high-skilled migrant workers to fuel economic growth and dynamism by taking on jobs that native-born workers are unwilling or unable to fill.
Far from displacing local workers, migration tends to boost employment among native-born citizens. Studies have consistently shown that countries with significant foreign-born populations experience faster and more sustained GDP growth. In the US, migrants paid an estimated <a href="https://map.americanimmigrationcouncil.org/locations/national/" target="_blank">$579 billion</a> in federal, state, and local taxes in 2022.
Research also shows that migration does not negatively affect local workers’ wages. Since lower-skilled migrants often take undesirable jobs, such as those involving long night shifts, zero-hours contract work, and heavy labour, their main competitors are usually other migrants.
None of this seems to matter to Trump, whose <a href="https://www.bloomberg.com/features/2024-trump-interview/" target="_blank">unsubstantiated claims</a> include the charge that immigrants are taking “Black jobs.” Rather than competing with native-born Americans, migrants have contributed significantly to US job creation.&nbsp;
Many countries depend so heavily on migrants that their economies would collapse without them. This is especially true in some Gulf countries. Migrants make up roughly <a href="https://comparativemigrationstudies.springeropen.com/articles/10.1186/s40878-024-00390-3" target="_blank">90%</a> of the labor force in the UAE and Qatar.&nbsp;
Elsewhere, foreign workers often fill critical labour gaps, doing jobs that require specialised skills, such as programming, plumbing, or surgery, while lower-skilled migrants handle vital tasks that locals are unwilling to perform like fruit picking and elder care.
Thriving economies naturally attract more migrants, who, in turn, boost productivity and fuel economic growth. This virtuous cycle explains why cities with the highest migrant concentrations are among the world’s most vibrant and prosperous.
Anti-immigration politicians often portray migrants as a burden on public budgets. In fact, foreign workers tend to contribute more in taxes than they receive in benefits. Even undocumented migrant workers make significant contributions to government finances.
Refugees, unlike economic migrants, can sometimes become a burden on social systems. But this is largely due to restrictive immigration policies in countries like the UK, where asylum seekers are prohibited from working and forced to rely on public services.
Increased migration also offers clear demographic advantages. Most advanced economies, as well as many developing countries, including China, now have birth rates below replacement levels, which, combined with rising life expectancy, have led to rapid population aging.&nbsp;
By 2050, the number of people aged 60 and older worldwide is <a href="https://www.oxfordmartin.ox.ac.uk/publications/migration-and-the-economy-economic-realities-social-impacts-and-political-choices" target="_blank">expected to double</a> to more than two billion. Workers will be required to pay the taxes that sustain social systems and perform the growing range of jobs that cannot be automated or done remotely, like elder care, personal services, and hospitality.
But there appears to be little correlation between demographic realities and public attitudes. Countries with the world’s lowest fertility rates – such as Poland, Hungary, Japan, and South Korea – are among those most opposed to migration.&nbsp;
Nevertheless, public attitudes toward migration can and do change as people grow more accustomed to foreigners in their midst and begin to recognize the necessity of migrant labour.
Migration provides two key ingredients of a dynamic economy: a growing pool of highly educated workers and a diverse workforce that fosters innovation and entrepreneurship.&nbsp;
To be sure, not all migrants are exceptional or even law-abiding. Even so, criminality rates among migrants are typically lower than those of native-born citizens.
But if migration offers such clear benefits, why do so many people and politicians oppose it? The disconnect between economic reality and political discourse is reflected in surveys showing that people <a href="https://ourworldindata.org/data-insights/many-people-overestimate-the-percentage-of-immigrants-in-their-country" target="_blank">tend to overestimate</a> the size of their countries’ <a href="https://www.citigroup.com/global/insights/migration-and-the-economy" target="_blank">migrant populations</a> and in the anti-immigrant rhetoric of parties across the political spectrum.&nbsp;
Politicians, often assisted by audience-hungry media, have learned that sensationalised images of foreigners ‘flooding’ or ‘swamping’ their countries attract those who confront job insecurity, limited access to public services, or unaffordable housing. Even immigrants and their descendants are not immune to the influence of such messaging.
Walls and fences have long been a favored tool of anti-immigration politicians. But while they serve as powerful symbols of sovereignty, physical barriers are often counterproductive. Instead of deterring migration, they tend to trap as many people within a country’s borders as they keep out.
There are currently more than <a href="https://www.americanimmigrationcouncil.org/research/mass-deportation" target="_blank">13 million undocumented workers</a> in the US, many of whom have been in the country for decades. Deporting them en masse would undermine the economy, harming US-born workers in the process.&nbsp;
Industries like construction, <a href="https://cmsny.org/agricultural-workers-rosenbloom-083022/" target="_blank">agriculture</a>, and <a href="https://www.latimes.com/food/story/2020-05-26/meatpacking-industry-immigrant-undocumented-workers" target="_blank">meat processing</a>, where undocumented workers account for a significant share of the labour force, would be hit particularly hard. The result would be sharp increases in housing and food prices, as well as the costs of elder and infant care, hospitality, and other services.
Implementing a mass deportation program would face <a href="https://ohss.dhs.gov/sites/default/files/2024-06/2024_0418_ohss_estimates-of-the-unauthorized-immigrant-population-residing-in-the-united-states-january-2018%25E2%2580%2593january-2022.pdf" target="_blank">enormous</a> legal, logistical, and economic obstacles that would likely take years to overcome.
Much of the migration debate is focused on the impact of migrants on the countries that receive them, but, as the example of remittances suggests, the effects on the countries they leave are equally important – and not necessarily positive.&nbsp;
While India, China, and the Philippines <a href="https://www.statista.com/chart/4015/the-top-countries-for-highly-educated-migrants/" target="_blank">produce</a> the largest number of educated migrants, regions like Sub-Saharan Africa, the Caribbean, and Central America lose a far higher proportion of their university graduates.&nbsp;
As migrants gain skills and income, they often channel these resources back to their home countries, bringing both expertise and investments that foster economic development.&nbsp;
In many developing economies, remittances sent by migrants abroad exceed aid and investment combined. In <a href="https://www.investmentmonitor.ai/features/lebanon-remittance-dependent-country-world/" target="_blank">Lebanon</a>, they account for 28% of GDP, and between 32% and 48% of GDP in <a href="https://knomad-ois.assyst.in/publication/migration-and-development-brief-39" target="_blank">Tajikistan, Tonga, and Samoa</a>. (In Nepal it is 24% of the GDP.)&nbsp;
These funds have a transformative impact, supporting investments in education, health, housing, and productive assets such as seeds, tractors, and sewing machines. Consequently, communities with high migration rates are often better off economically than they would be otherwise.
While studies show that migrants tend to achieve at least some of their aspirations, many face abuse and danger even after they reach their destinations, enduring social and economic exclusion, xenophobia, loneliness, and violence.
Moreover, migrants often take on dangerous jobs that local workers avoid. Migrant women, in particular, are frequently employed as cleaners, cooks, and caregivers – isolated and insecure jobs often lacking basic protections.
The idea of open borders may seem politically suicidal nowadays, but they were largely the norm until the twentieth century. The EU’s Schengen area, which allows free movement across member states, demonstrates how such systems can work effectively.
The anti-immigration sentiment sweeping the US and many other countries contrasts with the growing recognition among economists that cross-border migration, when managed properly, can benefit host and source countries alike.&nbsp;
So far, the economists have been ignored. Increasingly restrictive policies targeting migrants from developing economies have jeopardised an essential lifeline for those seeking to escape poverty, conflict, and destitution while damaging the economies that shut the door on them.
Crafting a more humane and open immigration system, one that maximises opportunities while mitigating costs, &nbsp;remains one of the biggest challenges facing policymakers.
First, voters and political leaders must acknowledge that migration is, and always has been, a fact of life. Its history is one of profound loss and sorrow, but also of new opportunities and extraordinary progress. © Project Syndicate
<a href="https://iangoldin.org/" target="_blank">Ian Goldin</a> is Professor of Globalization and Development at the University of Oxford and the author of The Shortest History of Migration (<a href="http://oldstreetpublishing.co.uk/100/the-shortest-history-of-migration" target="_blank">Old Street Publishing</a>, 2024, <a href="https://theexperimentpublishing.com/catalogs/winter-2025/the-shortest-history-of-migration/" target="_blank">The Experiment</a>, 2025).

The truth about migration

Nepal is set to lift its ban on domestic workers migrating to West Asia, starting with a pilot agreement with <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/money/2023/06/14/uae-requests-nepal-to-resume-sending-domestic-helpers" target="_blank">the United Arab Emirates (UAE)</a>. This decision marks a major victory for <a href="https://apwld.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/AMKAS-NEPAL-final.pdf" target="_blank">advocacy groups</a>, <a href="https://www.fairrecruitmenthub.org/sites/default/files/2023-10/wcms_451050.pdf" target="_blank">human rights organisations</a>, <a href="https://www.ilo.org/publications/no-easy-exit-%E2%80%93-migration-bans-affecting-women-nepal" target="_blank">the ILO</a>, <a href="https://www.worecnepal.org/content/340/2022-05-18" target="_blank">activists</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/safer-migration-for-women" target="_blank">media</a>, and <a href="https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/til-2022-0017/html?lang=en&amp;srsltid=AfmBOoowfsJ6whGxR5B4vGFYhAbIaJgRdqoSFsvgciRPPrmNHncBAzFx" target="_blank">scholars</a> who have campaigned against the restriction, saying <a href="https://www.brunel.ac.uk/about/brunel-public-policy/news-and-events/news/Policy-briefs/Societal-challenges/Policy-Brief-Reducing-Vulnerability-to-Exploitation-of-Nepali-Migrant-Domestic-Workers-%E2%80%93-Dr-Ayushman-Bhagat" target="_blank">it increases the vulnerability of workers to exploitation</a>.
This legally binding agreement with a country that employs hundreds of thousands of Nepali domestic workers should be a cause for celebration, but lifting the migration ban on a pilot basis raises pressing questions.&nbsp;
How will the government select the 5,000 domestic workers? How will it reach prospective workers? And what provisions will be made for those migrating to the UAE without permits?
We also need to look at how the government plans to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-plans-to-reintegrate-returning-workers">reintegrate returnee workers</a>, and engage rights organisations, activists, and scholars in the consultation and negotiation process, and recognise unrecognised Nepali migrant domestic workers already in the UAE.
The lack of information on Nepali domestic workers abroad stems from long-standing migration bans imposed by the government as a protectionist policy. For years, <a href="https://comparativemigrationstudies.springeropen.com/articles/10.1186/s40878-021-00250-4" target="_blank">Nepal has imposed various degrees and forms of bans on domestic workers' mobility</a>, mainly affecting women, culminating in <a href="https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4175277" target="_blank">a blanket ban since 2017</a>. This was eased in 2020 with the <a href="https://www.ilo.org/publications/comprehensive-analysis-policies-and-frameworks-governing-foreign-employment" target="_blank">introduction of seven preconditions</a>, but it only reinforced barriers instead of offering a solution.
Despite the restrictions, <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0962629822000129" target="_blank">Nepalis continued migrating for domestic work</a>, both through formal and informal channels. Many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/women-on-the-move-89kx6lii">resort to illicit routes</a>, making it nearly impossible to count their numbers. Some reports estimate between <a href="https://ekantipur.com/en/news/2024/09/20/amid-the-ban-at-least-60000-women-are-domestic-workers-in-the-gulf-32-59.html" target="_blank">60,000</a>-<a href="https://brunel.figshare.com/articles/online_resource/Reducing_Vulnerability_to_Exploitation_of_Nepali_Migrant_Domestic_Workers/26892934/1?file=48931666" target="_blank">100,000</a>, but anecdotal evidence suggests that the figure could be as high as 500,000. This scale reflects the immense vulnerability of Nepali domestic workers abroad.
<a href="https://kathmandupost.com/columns/2024/08/10/who-benefits-from-migration-bans" target="_blank">Many feel abandoned by those meant to protect and fight for them</a>. Nepal embassies in destination countries fail to support them after they flee abuse and exploitation, especially as they are undocumented.
In many cases, employers confisticate passports or documents of the workers. Stripped of their identity, they rely on the Nepali diaspora or agents to navigate the host country as ‘illegal immigrants’ facing risks of raids, criminalisation, and further exploitation. Many returnee Nepali women have spent months in jail in Gulf countries before being deported back to Nepal.
The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/two-decades-of-debate-on-female-migration">vulnerabilities and exploitation of migrant domestic workers</a> are discussed in the media, policy, and academic circles, but their deaths are consistently overlooked. Migrant worker fatalities have become synonymous with just male workers, and there is a troubling silence surrounding the deaths of systematically disadvantaged women who are domestic workers.
They often die by suicide, due to exploitation, or from work-related illnesses. Yet, migration bans and the lack of political will to acknowledge the lives, labour, health, and deaths of these women prevent justice for them and their families in the face of tragedy.
Many who die never have their bodies returned to Nepal. For those who are repatriated, it is often due to the intervention of domestic worker organisations in Nepal or the diaspora.&nbsp;
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-town-to-ban-mothers-migrating">Migration bans</a> worsen this tragedy, making it nearly impossible for families to report missing or deceased loved ones for<a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1111/anti.12882" target="_blank"> fear of being criminalised as "traffickers"</a>.
The exploitation and deaths of migrant <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/history-of-female-im-mobility-in-nepal">female domestic workers</a> are ignored due to the grip of patriarchy, class, and caste on Nepal's labour and migration policies. These policies control their mobility, devalue their labour, and fail to provide dignified, sustainable jobs, making their bodies disposable.&nbsp;
As a result, <a href="https://www.brunel.ac.uk/research/Centres/Global-Lives/Forced-Migrant-Labourers/Migrant-Domestic-Workers-of-Nepal" target="_blank">many Nepali women feel abandoned</a> by their state, society, and families. Yet, despite this, they never abandon Nepal or their loved ones.
Many Nepali women migrate to break the cycle of <a href="https://ekantipur.com/opinion/2024/08/06/emergence-of-caste-slavery-among-nepalese-women-27-27.html" target="_blank">caste-based discrimination and gender violence by sending remittances for their children's education</a>. Hence, when a female domestic worker dies, it’s not just their family that suffers, the impact extends to their children and the nation’s future.&nbsp;
These sacrifices of these women, crucial to Nepal’s socio-economic progress, must be acknowledged, valued, and protected. The government must prioritise unconditional recognition of all domestic workers abroad to address the impact of exploitation and deaths of Nepali female migrant domestic workers.
It must inform the Nepali diaspora that it will unconditionally recognise all migrant domestic workers, regardless of documentation status: perhaps the only way to count them abroad.
As Nepal prepares to lift the migration ban on domestic workers, it must not abandon its most vulnerable citizens. This neglect heightens their vulnerability to exploitation and death, and threatens their families in times of tragedy.
&nbsp;We urge the government to raise this issue during the negotiations with the UAE, request immunity for these workers, and take the crucial step of counting domestic workers through Nepali embassies and consulates.
Once this step is taken, the government must expand its welfare net, such as providing insurance coverage, to safeguard workers and their families in worst-case scenarios. Insuring hundreds of thousands of Nepali domestic workers is not just protection, it is an investment in the well-being and future of Nepal.
We hope the pilot program leads to the full lifting of migration bans. But before we celebrate, we must not forget the hundreds of thousands of undocumented Nepali migrant domestic workers already in the Gulf. They are citizens too, and it is the duty of the state not to abandon them.
Ayushman Bhagat, PhD, is a lecturer in Political Geography at Brunel University of London, and Sunita Mainali is the Executive Director of WOREC, Nepal.

Ban on female migrant workers to be lifted

This is the 54th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. <h2>Kumar BK</h2> I have enjoyed playing the flute since I was a young boy. I used to play it in the forest while tending to my cattle or collecting firewood near my village in Khotang. But I am a self-taught musician, I have never played professionally. I know I am not as good as other professional flute players like those I often watch on YouTube. Reaching that skill level requires professional training. It took me a lot of practice to reach my present level. My learning was interrupted because of going overseas. Growing up, my father was always abroad: first in Malaysia and then Qatar. I stayed with my maternal uncle, and childhood was a constant struggle. I had to help my grandparents with the family business, so I only got to attend school thrice a week. Even then, I somehow passed Grade 12. My father returned for good, and in 2014 it was my turn to go and work in Malaysia. I did not manage to save much because of household expenses. My brother has health problems, and a lot of my savings went for his treatment. After three years in Malaysia, I went to Dubai in 2020. Because of a bad contract and Covid-19, things did not work out as I anticipated. During the lockdown I spent a few months in my room without work or pay. Eventually I did get a good job, but after two years my contract was not renewed because of slow business. I came home last year and am now headed to Qatar. Let’s see how things go this time. When my father was away, he used to write home once every few months. We received news of his well-being with much relief. Times have changed now.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214021252_bd2e1b0d8050a884a0efe8ae78bd0d95053424b62ebe6d5bb5a086b07b4bcd8c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241214021252_bd2e1b0d8050a884a0efe8ae78bd0d95053424b62ebe6d5bb5a086b07b4bcd8c" data-rendition-name="original" width="963" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kumar BK DD 54"></figure>  With my father sending money, we were able to afford household expenses. Before my father left, we lived in a bamboo shed with a small room, but now we have a house and land. He lifted us to a state where we no longer have to worry about affording food or a roof on our heads. Other hardships remain. As a son of a migrant, there was always the expectation that he would bring us a mobile phone. It is only later after working overseas that I realised it is not so easy. My overseas experience did not lead to much progress. We had many unanticipated expenses that took precedence: someone falling ill, someone falling down and needing hospital care. Random expenses left few savings. I have now realised that it is difficult to make progress from migration alone if we do not have other ways to supplement our overseas earnings. If households back home can cover basic expenses like food, overseas earnings can be channeled to more productive investment to uplift the family. If remittance from one family member is the sole income source, then we migrate just to survive. Migrant workers like me have just one goal: to earn as much as possible in a limited timeframe. I am headed overseas again with the same thought. Back in my village, I look for a quiet, shaded spot in a nearby forest to play my flute by myself while tending to livestock. I am often away now, but my neighbours in the village say that when they hear the sound of a flute from the forest, they know I am home. I am taking my flute with me to Qatar. I will practice in my room in my free time. Playing it in my room will give me comfort. <h2>Deepak Darji</h2> I was very young when I lost my father. After that my mother also started falling ill. Before that, our family was doing just fine financially. My childhood was not easy because of her poor health and my father’s absence. School was not really a priority. I had to make sure my mother had the medicines keeping her alive. I had household chores like cooking. My mother often reminded me to go to school, but how could I? The responsibilities were on my shoulders from a young age. At least now, she is getting a cash grant from the government that has eased things a bit. Over the years, I have been doing odd jobs. Things are not easy and finding regular work is difficult in the village. As a musician, I am part of a पञ्चे बाजा troupe that plays at weddings and other rituals. If the event is far from where we live, we make about Rs4,000 and if close by, it can be up to Rs3,000. The frequency of events varies. Some months we have four or five, while at other times it is less. Over a decade ago, I went to Dubai but did not get to work or earn as planned despite spending almost Rs200,000 in fees. I had to rely on fellow villagers in Dubai for help, but they told me this was not a sustainable way to live overseas. They were right. I came home before the end of my contract, and was heavily in debt because I could not save enough to pay my recruitment loans. In fact, I had to borrow additional money to sustain myself while in Dubai.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214021252_9c68e45a42623952ca8be0e97e8f45f10851f90e5ab33b3646ccbca962666f06.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241214021252_9c68e45a42623952ca8be0e97e8f45f10851f90e5ab33b3646ccbca962666f06" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Deepak Darji"></figure>  After returning, I have migrated to various places in India including Shillong, Lucknow, Delhi and Mumbai to work in construction or hotels. I also did short term police duties during the election in Nepal, and the earnings helped while getting to serve the country. I have tried to go overseas again but the first failed experience left a deep scar in my psyche. It was difficult to trust people who said they would find me jobs. I also did not have the Rs300,000 fee they demanded for a job in the Gulf. For Malta they wanted up to Rs800,000. I could not afford such high costs. Now, I have six children to take care of along with my wife and mother. I was finally able to go overseas because the job did not require any recruitment fees. After all, we migrate in the hope that something will work out. Just about everyone is leaving from my village. The well-to-do ones go to Japan and Australia, and people like us to the Gulf. I am taking my shehnai oboe to Qatar to practice during breaks, or when I am bored. Eventually, I will have to come home and resume performing at events, so I cannot afford to get rusty. I had previously taken it to India as well and fellow Nepalis would sometimes ask me to play after a hard day’s work. Our house in the village is known as the ‘radio house’ because the radio is always on. When my grandfather was alive, people would come over to listen to farming programs and radio dramas. He used to encourage fellow villagers to adopt the farming practices that the radio programs talked about. Even today, the radio plays throughout the day, and if it ever stops, people are startled by the silence and say: “कस्तो सुनसान भयो”. Diaspora Diaries is a Nepali Times collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

Migrating with the music of Nepal

Samsung Nepal has opened pre-orders for the Galaxy A57 5G and A37 5G. Both phones run Samsung’s One UI 8.5, featuring AI capabilities like voice transcription, Circle to Search, and photo editing. They feature a 50MP triple-camera system, a Super AMOLED display, and six years of OS and security updates.

Galaxy A series

Know your Ministers

Prime Minister Balendra Shah on Wednesday broke tradition and met with 17 foreign envoys collectively, a move that was a notable departure from how his predecessors operated.&nbsp;
Shah had already set himself apart by talking less, listening more, and delegating to trusted friends. But by meeting all ambassadors at one go in the presence of the Foreign Ministry, he signalled a paradigm shift in how he wants Nepal to be seen: no longer just balancing India and China, but as a country confident about its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/tripolar-contestation-over-nepal">strategic importance and place in the world</a>.
In just two weeks, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rsp-dos-and-don-ts">RSP has sprung into action </a>on multiple fronts to implement its ambitious 100-point, 100-days action plan. It has taken short-term measures to mitigate the impact of the Gulf war, as well as medium- and long- term measures to streamline the bureaucracy. A few high-profile figures have been made examples of to drive the message home.
Earlier this week, the government recalled six politically appointed ambassadors, the most notable being long-serving Shankar Sharma from New Delhi. The Kathmandu District Court issued arrest warrants against former prime minister Sher Bahadur Deuba and his former foreign minister wife Arzu Rana on charges of money laundering and corruption.
Each ministry has been trying to clean up the accumulated rot from the past three decades: regulatory overhaul of microfinance, education, health and service delivery.&nbsp;
These actions widely disseminated campaign-style on YouTube and TikTok have made most Nepalis hopeful that the party they installed in power means business.
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BACKLASH
But such attempts to overhaul a long-entrenched political culture were bound to face backlash. In their impatience and enthusiasm to get things done, some of Prime Minister Shah’s ministers have over-reached.
It was common knowledge that government-paid advertising in the mainstream press was kickback-driven, but the PMO’s directive that official notices be published or broadcast only on state-run media has been denounced — especially as the media industry struggles to stay afloat.
More serious are some recent appointments by ministers of relatives and figures closely associated with the RSP to key positions. This has rankled because this party built its political plank on ending nepotism and graft.&nbsp;
News that Home Minister Sudan Gurung allegedly had not paid rent on leased land, which illegally encroached on the lake in Pokhara did not help. &nbsp;
Prime Minister Shah himself has come under scrutiny for appointing a kitchen cabinet full of male buddies from his time as Kathmandu mayor. To douse criticism he brought in as adviser investigative journalist Deepa Dahal, who has exposed corruption in high places of the previous coalitions.&nbsp;
Shah’s appointment of another political adviser Asim Shah to the head Constitution Amendment Task Force, is also seen as problematic. He is a filmmaker and former lawmaker, but does not have a background in constitutional law.&nbsp;
Even more controversial is the Cabinet’s decision to appoint RSP Chair Rabi Lamichhane’s legal counsel, Narayan Kandel, as Attorney General. Kandel used to be a UK permanent resident, and does not have as much experience practicing law in Nepal.&nbsp;
Kandel’s appointment drew flak and raised eyebrows, and with the pending legal cases against Lamichhane this appointment represents a flagrant conflict of interest.
Health Minister Nisha Mehta was also accused of favouritism after reappointing Junu Shrestha, wife of Labour Minister Dipak Kumar Shah, as member of the Health Insurance Board which had earlier suspended her. The Labour Minister’s rambling rant at the Board’s meeting on Tuesday has not helped the RSP’s image.&nbsp;
(UPDATE: On Thursday, Prime Minister Shah sacked the Labour Minister after the RSP found him in breach of the party's code of conduct and discipline. He served 14 days in the Cabinet, one of the shortest tenures for a minister in Nepal )
It is hard to know what <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/ball-in-balen-s-court">Balendra Shah is thinking</a>, and how Rabi Lamichhane is going to justify some of these moves. After all, making politics, governance, and bureaucracy a meritocracy has been the core tenet of the RSP, and it risks alienating its mainly youth base if these missteps persist.
But at least for now, most RSP supporters seem to be giving the party the benefit of doubt.

Nepal’s new government springs into action

In a classic arc of political sociology, a revolutionary figure takes several decades to complete their cycle: mobilisation, institutionalisation, and finally governance. 
However, the timeline of this trajectory has been telescoped in the case of Home Minister Sudan Gurung, who in 2025 described himself as a social activist and volunteer, has gone from the barricades of the GenZ protests to the mahogany desk of the Ministry of Home Affairs.
Gurung is a personal pick of Prime Minister Balendra Shah, and played a pivotal role in getting him to join the RSP by mediating with Rabi Lamichhane. His journey serves as a real test bed for the ‘Outsider-to-Insider Transition’, raising a fundamental question about someone who now leads the very apparatus that he once fought against: the police, intelligence service, and the bureaucracy.
Social capital can indeed be built during a crisis exacerbated by state failure, and that is where we first see Sudan Gurung — expediting relief delayed by systemic corruption and red tape. Gurung’s delivery aid through a social-media-driven volunteer network bypassed the government. 
Whether or not he really rushed a dying child to hospital after the 2015 earthquake does not matter, it has become an urban legend. 
His work evolved into the non-profit Hami Nepal in 2020, serving as a ‘parallel state’ mechanism that would later become central to his public identity. Later, his group sprang into action during the Covid crisis, organising oxygen cylinders and beds . He was there after flood disasters in Manang and Sidhupalchok, and even organised Rs15m worth of aid to Turkey after the 2023 earthquake. 
Moral Legitimacy became his primary source of power, and he strategically positioned himself as an alternative emergency response system. But the real rupture happened on 8 September 2025 when years of frustration, corruption scandals, lack of transparency and state accountability culminated in a rally that the next day descended into anarchy. 
There was no single leader. The movement was fully decentralised, but as elsewhere such upheavals produces a recognisable face. Among them was Sudan Gurung. Who despite being a millennial himself, became the most visible interlocutor of the GenZ movement. 
He negotiated with the state’s key actors, including the president and the Chief of Army staff, during the period of uncertainty When the country was on the brink. This led to the dissolution of parliament and the formation of the interim government under Sushila Karki, paving the way for the election on 5 March.
Since then, Sudan Gurung’s role has become contradictory. Within days of touching Prime Minister Karki’s feet after her swearing in, he was at the gates of Baluwatar spearheading midnight demonstrations calling for her resignation. He accused her and Home Minister Om Prakash Aryal of not consulting the youth over Cabinet appointments and not arresting the previous government officials.
This oscillation became a hallmark of Gurung’s own version of the ‘Radical Flank Effect’ — erratic behaviour to force the establishment to make concessions. 
On 18 January Gurung formally joined the RSP, and started campaigning from his home constituency of Gorkha-1. He won decisively and was appointed home minister by Balendra Shah. The transition was complete. 
As minister his role spans core security areas: overseeing internal security through the Nepal Police, Armed Police Force and the intelligence bureau. The man who took part in anti-government rallies is now in charge of the riot police that aresupposed control anti-government protests.
His portfolio also handles state administration matters such as citizenship, immigration, and border security, coordinates with the judicial system on prisons, detention, and policies related to punishment and clemency. For example will be overseeing the fraud case against his own party’s chair, Lamichhane.
In his book Power in Movement, political scientist Sidney Tarrow observes that social movement leaders encounter ‘institutional capture’ upon entering government. In a sociological paradox, the man who previously denounced the police for killing youth protesters is now the person who issues directives to those same forces.
Preventive detention, surveillance, and the control of public festivals are the same instruments that the former old guard employed to stifle his movement. The activist who demanded transparency at the B P Koirala Institute now manages the state’s most secretive security apparatus.
In this arc, Gurung is not alone, there are parallels around the world for leaders emerging from the ashes of revolt. It is not so much a prediction, but for Gurung the challenge is even more acute because youth expectations are so high.
The bar for performance has been raised by citizens demanding change and quicker, more efficient service delivery. He is under constant public scrutiny, which is why he has to take YouTubers every time he goes on inspections of the airport, the BP Highway, police stations, picking trash on the sidewalks or meeting the Swiss ambassador to ask about repatriating the ill-gotten wealth of politicians.
Sudan Gurung is facing intense public glare. There have been calls to reveal the truth behind Hami Nepal’s finances, the alleged links to Free Tibet, and lately not paying five years of rent for an illegal lakefront property in Pokhara. 
As minister, he will find that moral legitimacy alone is no longer sufficient, it must be reinforced by transparent and consistent institutional accountability. Sudan Gurung’s ascent is evidence that the public mostly trusts ‘outsiders’ during times of crisis. However, history also cautions us that the state only permits ‘insiders’ to operate. 
Gurung will have to organise systemic reform to inject the transparency of his volunteer days to the Home Ministry’s traditionally secretive disbursements. If he fails, he runs the risk of validating Michels’ Iron Law of Oligarchy, which would serve as a warning about how revolutionary energy is dissipated by the very structures it was intended to overthrow.
Nepal is watching the man who said he once held a dying child in his arms after an earthquake. The volunteer has become the Warden.
Nischal Raj Gautam is a student of Media Studies and Mass Communication at St. Xavier's College, Maitighar. He is a member of the EU Delegation's Youth Sounding Board (YSB), and a journalist for TheirWorld's The Education Issue 2026.

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